


A Rude and Royal Revision

by piss_lord



Category: Original Work, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Belching, Belly Kink, Character Transformation, Farting, Feeding, Multi, Muscle Growth, Stuffing, TF, Transformation, Weight Gain, fat kink, slob, tldr: a dude turns into asgore and gets Gross lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piss_lord/pseuds/piss_lord
Summary: An unfortunate man, in an attempt to cosplay one of his favorite characters, gets more then he bargained for; a commission for emissaryofrainbows.





	A Rude and Royal Revision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emissaryofrainbows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryofrainbows/gifts).



> wow my first non-dr fic lol
> 
> i'd finished this a few months ago and i'm only now posting it rip

Cosplay was never something that Seth Moore took much interest in. Though he could understand why so many fans were passionate about their hobby, the young man didn’t fancy the idea of spending hundreds of hard-earned dollars on a single costume. That said, he wasn’t the type to turn up his nose at the prospect of trying new things. A frequent internet user, he was decently active on social media and regularly browsed fandom-based websites; observing fanart, reading fanfiction, listening to remixes, and soaking in various other genres of fan-created content. A community he particularly enjoyed being involved in was none other than the Undertale fandom - despite the terrible reputation the game and it’s following had unfortunately garnered over the years due to the overzealousness of the younger fans, as well as the general toxic behavior that many people within the fanbase displayed, Seth still held the game and it’s community dear to his heart. Ever since the little indie game was released, he found himself adoring it to bits; he loved everything, from the spectacular and epic soundtrack, to the quirky and charming sense of humor, and everything in-between.

He especially enjoyed discussing the game and it’s contents with other fans. Though not the most popular user in the world, he did have his fair share of followers. He had met many pleasant people over the course of time, but one person in particular stood out to him; a fairly well-known cosplayer (and a cute one at that). Despite her sizable audience, she found time to text him whenever possible, The two chatted and laughed, discussing the game and sharing opinions. However, it was only a matter of time before the topic of cosplay was brought up. While apprehensive at first, her sweet words, honest encouragement, and playful attitude persuaded him into considering giving it a shot; surely, whipping up something cheap and simple wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Mostly driven by the novelty of it - along with a few hints of his desire to impress his friend - he ultimately made the decision to put together a cheap little cosplay of a certain Undertale character; King Asgore Dreemurr. 

Although part of the reason Seth chose King Fluffybuns himself was because the cosplayer he so frequently interacted with particularly enjoyed adorning her gorgeously-crafted (and expensive-looking) Toriel cosplay, and choosing her counterpart would be amusing, it was far from the main reason. Undoubtedly, Asgore was the young man’s favorite character - as much as he liked the remaining cast, they didn’t come close to his adoration for the monster king. The reason why was simple, really; Asgore was absolutely adorable. He was a big, soft goat dad who boasted polite mannerisms and simply wanted the best for those he loved. He was fierce, yet kind. A powerful and menacing king, as well as a dorky and endearing father. His battle was epic and challenging, and the track that accompanied it was catchy as hell. Not to mention the fact he was quite the stud, with his physique being a perfect hybrid between muscular and fat. The sweetest of Seth’s dreams would involve him cuddling up close to the big, fluffy royal, lazily lounging atop his mountainous gut and allowing it’s warm aroma to envelop him. He even planned to include a faux ‘belly’ in his costume in the form of a pillow - Seth wasn’t exactly the heftiest person in the world, or hefty at all, really, sporting a slim and angular figure. It was because of this that a handful of his friends had taken a liking to calling him ‘the walking stick’, much to the young man’s chagrin. 

Not aiming to spend an unnecessarily large sum of money on the costume, and certainly not willing to spend hours upon hours assembling the thing with his own hands, it didn’t take much consideration for him to decide to purchase an inexpensive replica of the king’s long purple cape and golden shoulder pads at an online store specializing in fandom-related attire and products. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a single review regarding the product. Although the concern of the product possibly turning out to be low-quality, cheaply-constructed junk did itch away at him, the price of the item was shockingly low - or at least, rather low compared to the other products the website offered. Without too much of a second thought, he purchased it, and lo and behold, it arrived a little over a week later. Not only was the item surprisingly quick to arrive, especially considering the fact it was apparently produced in a vastly distant country, but it was also had a decent quality to it; despite the fact the shoulderpads were made out of solid plastic and the cape was constructed from silken fabric, a few brief tests proved the items didn’t tear or bend easily. As such, it seemed likely they would survive a few pictures. Along with that, he had snagged a cheap golden wig at a nearby department store not long before that, complete with a blonde beard he planned to trim as he saw fit. The other details, he would concern himself with later on. 

The young man was positioned in front of the tall mirror in his bathroom, which wasn’t exactly a very spacious room. Dimly, he stared at his reflection, taking in each of his features. There were many things he didn’t like about himself, and his appearance was always one of the more prominent factors in that opinion. He was tall and lean with lanky legs supporting a scrawny, hunched torso. The skin that clung to his form was an unhealthily pale shade of creamy peach which was undoubtedly a symptom of his reluctance to leave the comfort of his apartment. A mess of disheveled brown hair occupied his scalp, with untidy bangs sweeping across his forehead. His hooded, grayish blue eyes were lazy and dull, complete with heavy bags and dark circles that thickly outlined them. Completing his appearance were a loose black graphic tee with the iconic Batman symbol printed on the chest, a pair of baggy blue jeans that spilled over the length of his ankles, and long scruffy striped socks that haphazardly clung to his feet. Seth liked to believe if someone were to ask him to write a list of every physical attribute he wished to change, he’d be able to fill an entire notebook and perhaps more - but now wasn’t the time for idle self-loathing.

As his uncut nails glided along his flat backside, he tore his gaze away from his reflection and glanced down at the package that uselessly rested on the smooth marble counter - although he had handled it and tested it in the past, he had yet to actually adorn the accessory, which is what he planned to do at that moment. Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in, he reached down and gripped the plastic packaging. It crinkled in his hands, the various creases glimmering in the dull bathroom light. Cautiously, he slid it out of the package, handling it with more than enough attentiveness and care. Slowly, he eased the plastic golden pads onto his slim shoulders, allowing the long, elegant cape to flow along his backside. While the pauldrons were a bit of a loose fit - something he could only blame on his underweight form - they still retained a solid balance and didn’t appear to slide off easily. 

Smiling slightly, he swayed his body to the left, and then to the right, watching his cape ripple magnificently behind him. The sight was enough to entertain him for a good few moments, though it didn’t take long for it’s value to fade, taking his brief smile along with it. Sighing, Seth glanced towards the half-parted door at the end of the small room before returning his gaze to his hunched reflection. The dark-eyed young man considered snatching his blonde wig and matching beard as he rubbed his slightly angular chin. 

That was, until a sharp, burning sensation pierced his chest without warning. He winced and jolted, firmly clutching his upper torso. Like a fire was ignited within the depths of his heart, it roared with an intense heat. Seth instinctively doubled over, hissing vulgarities under his breath as his nails tore into his upper body. A prickling sensation soon danced across the surface of his pale skin, growing into an intense itching that ate away at him from the inside. With his other hand, he furiously clawed at himself in a desperate attempt to satisfy the irritating itch while continuing to grip his chest. In a sense, Seth felt like a tortured soul writhing in the depths of Hell. His skin burned, and his face ached due to how tense and firm it had gotten. Trembling, he pulled his hands away from his body. 

His intense gaze burned into his quaking, sweating palms. Heaving breaths tumbled out of his throat - upon making a sudden realization, he choked on his breath. Either he was hallucinating, or strands of white hair were growing from his skin before his very eyes. Like grass sprouting from the soil, the snowy white hairs lengthened by the very second. Panicking, his gaze moved to his arms; surely enough, the strands had spread like some sort of plague, contaminating everything it touched. Little by little, his pale skin vanished underneath a lush forest of silken white. Upon grazing a hand over the surface, he came to discover it was not hair, but  _ fur _ ; soft, silken fur that wouldn’t be out of place on some kind of animal. The field continued expanding across the surface of his skin at a startlingly rapid pace, and before he knew it, his entire body was covered in a pristine white pelage. The tips of the long strands brushed against the interior of his clothes, making the room just the slightest bit warmer to the young man. 

 

Bewildered, he gawked at the reflection stared back at him. The sight would’ve been amusing to any incognizant onlookers, to see a human covered from toe to tip in fur like a Wolfman one would see in a classic horror film. From Seth’s point of view, however, the entire scenario felt like a surreal fever dream, or perhaps a bad drug trip. After all, there simply wasn’t a logical explanation regarding his predicament, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it. There was no way a human could just spontaneously grow fur - it just _ couldn’t  _ happen. But alas, the reflection before his very eyes certainly didn’t lie. His thoughts of cosplay slipped away from him, instead replaced with a primal sort of distress. 

That was far from the end of it, though. 

A sudden ache struck the bones within his arms - an awful, cramping ache. He clutched his shoulder, moaning in agony as his face tightened. His scrawny arm soon expanded into a muscular, yet decently plump appendage, followed by the remainder of his limbs; Slowly but surely, they morphed and expanded in size, changing their shape altogether. Layer after layer of well-built muscle and soft fat coated his arms, gradually increasing in size. They increased in girth, while simultaneously changing in structure; little by little, they became less human in shape - while his arms remained relatively familiar, the adjustments to his legs were significantly more abnormal, almost animalistic. His once bony legs contorted, becoming stumpier and fatter while simultaneously retaining their length. Oddly enough, the stretching of his bones and muscles began to feel pleasurable after a few moments, very much akin to the sensation brought by extending a cramped limb. It was enough to bring a small moan to the young man. 

Alongside his changing limbs were his fingers, which seemed to be getting larger by the second. His nails sharpened and shifted in tint, elongating into narrowed claws that wouldn’t seem out of place on the paws of a ferocious, wild mammal. It could only be assumed his toes were undergoing a similar metamorphosis; his socks became tighter and tighter by the very second, something that could only be attributed to his feet increasing in size. As expected, they gave into the resistance increasing within them, and loudly tore open, unveiling a pair of large, furry paws. In a similar vein, even his oversized jeans seemed to be tearing under the pressure. Miraculously, they didn’t succumb to the advancing pressure and tear completely, instead being reduced to partially-shredded,  comically tight jean-shorts that desperately clung to his fat, furry legs like a second skin of sorts. 

As this was happening, his torso began to contort in a similar fashion. His spine elongated, allowing his body to take on a longer appearance, and his ribs grew in size. His bony, scrawny physique quickly became nothing but a past thought, substituted by a rapidly widening midsection and a swelling chest. One thing was certain; he was getting bigger by the second, judging by the fact that small bathroom was definitely getting smaller and more cramped by the second. His flat breasts bulged and hardened into somewhat of a hybrid between pecs and moobs, and a set of well-built abs emerged from the skin and fur on his stomach.

As his torso continued to gradually dilate and distend, his dark T-shirt began to strain and rip as a result of such overpowering pressure. The fabric desperately fought a battle it simply couldn’t win. The way it hopelessly stretched to encompass the entirety of Seth’s brawny exterior was pitiful, yet somewhat noble in it’s own little way. Surprisingly, as the growth of his torso slowed to a halt, the article of clothing miraculously stayed in one piece, despite the gaping holes and harsh tears that littered the fabric. As a result, generous patches of fur spilled through the misshapen openings. Seth shifted his torso from side to side, thus straining the tight fabric even more. Like a cocoon of cloth, it tightly squeezed his body, clinging to his furry exterior like a second skin. Even the tiniest bit of movement seemed to be enough to shred it even further. 

He wasn’t able to rest for long, as a sudden pressure began to form from within his midsection - his stomach, more specifically. Akin to a growing ball of gas, the sensation intensified by the second, seemingly expanding inside of his inner workings. Upon further inspection, it was made clear that that was, in fact, the case. He watched as his muscular stomach swelled like an inflating balloon, quickly taking on a rounded shape. The growing mass pushed against the interior of his stretched shirt, forcing it’s weight against it without showing any hints of mercy - eventually, the strain was too much for the article of clothing to bare, and it loudly tore open. The front half of his shirt was messily split into two halves, thus exposing his broad, masculine chest. Gradually, his toned abdomen ballooned into a heaving, fat muscle-gut, topped with wisps of thick golden hair. As the furry mass expanded in overall size, it began to spill over his waist, protruding several inches ahead of him. 

Upon curiously pressing his newly-created claws into the mass, he came to quickly find it was doughy; warm and soft to the touch as his fingers easily sunk into the orb of flesh and fur. As a result of his gentle handling, the rotund belly rippled and jiggled ever so slightly. Jolts of pleasure were sent throughout his nerves, ignited by the active sloshing of his lardy gut. The way it molded in his loose grip made him shiver with a particular sort of excitement. 

Prying his attention away from his beefy belly, he quickly came to notice a burning sensation eating away at his face. As expected, it gradually sprouted into yet another physical change; a rounded snout. The bridge of his nose stretched before his very eyes, elongating to the point where it became clearly visible in his line of sight. Poking out of his newly formed chin were countless golden hairs, quickly culminating into a magnificent beard - to go along with it was a sharpened, well-groomed moustache, curling around the curved base of his muzzle. To compliment his newly-grown facial hair was yet another change; the messy locks of brown hair occupying his scalp elongated into something resembling the mane of a lion, framing his fat, fuzzy face. His eyes - normally unfocused and dark - expanded and brightened significantly, and the heavy bags hanging beneath his eyelids vanished without a trace, giving his eyes a much brighter and healthier appearance. His irises also lightened in tint, shifting from a dull azure to a sparkling sky blue. 

Soon enough, the final change occurred. A pair of thick white horns tore out of his skull and spiralled out of his scalp, stretching high above the golden mane framing his furry visage. Of course, such an event did sent waves of slight stinging pain throughout Seth’s nerves, but a pleasure mixed in with the sensation did help cloud it. The twin horns were bulky and sturdy, the tips curving inwards. And thus, the change was complete. 

Physically, he was no longer Seth Moore. In his place was Asgore Dreemurr, king of monsterkind. 

And so, he stared into the reflection staring back at him. No longer did he see an average young man leading a relatively average yet comfortable life - in its place, a massive creature boasting a wide, muscular physique. The transformation was finished, and as far as Seth was aware, irreversible for the time being. He was stuck in the body of a fictional character. As he mused over the situation with a claw pressed to his bearded chin, he contemplated the events leading up to his body’s metamorphosis with a certain calmness that even surprised himself. He recalled receiving the package at an earlier time after going through various chores, where he didn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary. He headed to the bathroom, removed the package, adorned the cape he had purchased, and… 

It hardly took a moment’s worth of thought for him to come to the conclusion it was the fault of the item that sparked such a drastic change. Therefore, removing it would reverse it’s effects, allowing him to return to the body he knew and grew familiar with, but didn’t exactly love. Essentially, it would be a downgrade, going from a large and imposing king to a scrawny young man once again. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly _ dislike  _ his newfound appearance - as the shock of the situation worn off, he came to find his condition wasn’t exactly bad, per say. In fact, it was more or less a dream come true for the young man, being able to literally experience life through the eyes of his favorite Undertale character. No longer was his mind occupied with the thought of cosplay, in its stead, his new body and the many possible perks it came with.

With the faintest of a smile, he stared down at his massive body. The cape didn’t  _ have _ to come off at that very moment, so why couldn’t he have a little fun in his new body first? Surely he would have a good time, boasting such a wide and hefty form along with a newly found confidence.

While he considered what things he could do in Asgore’s body, a low rumble stirred within his guts, accompanied by a white-hot emptiness that clawed against the inner walls of his stomach. A low growl, although muffled by the thick, furry fat encased around it, seeped out of his midsection and escaped to the outside world. In response, he pressed a clawed hand to the peak of his rounded gut, before idly scratching against the hairy surface. Subsequently offering a lazy glance to his surroundings, he lumbered his heavy body out of the room. The narrow frame of the doorway did hinder his movement quite a bit, as the rolls of flab hanging off of his physique refused to squeeze through, but a wriggle here and a squeeze there seemed to be enough to free his form.

The floor beneath him quaked as he stumbled free of the wooden frame’s firm grip. His stumpy legs teetered as they struggled to hold up his gargantuan torso, prompting him to briefly hobble about on his toes. Though, after a few brief, yet heavy jumps, he regained his balance in no time at all. With not much more than a single goal in mind, he steered his massive frame down the length of the corridor. While movement was awkward as the tips of his magnificent horns grazed along the surface of the ceiling, and his massively broad and flabby frame was somewhat of a pain to lug through the confining hallway, he did eventually squeeze his way into the kitchen - which was, thankfully, far more spacious than the previous room. 

He hastily swung a clawed hand over the handle of his fridge, before throwing it open - instantly, his front was assaulted by a rush of cold, somewhat stale air, which breezed through the strands of fur and hair clinging to his form, giving it a slight rustle. While it did feel quite nice, it wasn’t enough to quell the aching emptiness burning away at his gut. Not a moment’s worth of attention was given to the contents of the refrigerator as Seth opted to instead extend a hairy hand and grab whatever brushed against his fingers - the first thing he plucked out was a tall carton of milk, which he had bought at the grocery store not long ago. Thankfully, it happened to be mostly full as inferred by its weight. He moved without hesitation and popped the sprout open with a flick of the claw.

He guzzled it down, issued by heavy yet consistent gulps. The sensation of the creamy liquid oozing down his throat felt like the greatest luxury on Earth. However, it didn’t last long as his gluttony drained the carton to the last drop - to which he half-heartedly tossed it over his shoulder, allowing it to clatter to the floor uselessly. The milk settling within his stomach barely made of a dent in his gnawing hunger - he reached inside once more and set his sights on a plain box of pepperoni and cheese pizza he had impulsively ordered about a day or so ago. As he had only managed to eat a small fraction back then, he was pleased to find there was quite a substantial amount remaining. He wasted no time and began to wolf the cold pizza down, slice after slice disappearing past his impressively sized mouth. His dull fangs made quick work of the greased and overly cheesy snacks; although chilled, they did retain a good amount of their original flavor.  Much to his surprise, he found himself clearing the box much faster than initially expected; and yet, his hunger was still yet to be satisfied. 

Briefly, he dragged a heavy tongue along the perimeter of his lips; the taste of cheap pizza still clung to his mouth, amidst hints of milk. But his clawing hunger was still yet to be satiated - due to the size of his stomach, his natural conclusion was to glut himself as much as possible to reach that satisfying fullness he so desperately craved. 

Little hesitation or thought were given to his actions as he extended an arm once more. Anything unfortunate enough to be in the general vicinity was swiftly and carelessly gobbled up, disappearing past the goat-like monster’s concerningly large jaws. Not a shred of thought was given to how piggish he might’ve looked, instead completely focused on filling his belly to it’s complete capacity. His messy chews and smacks were loud and had a particular wetness to them, being constant and reigning dominant over the typically quiet air of his apartment’s kitchen area. Strewn in between his sloppy chomping were a series of guttural belches that sprayed his churning stomach’s abysmal scent into the open air, quickly resulting in a cloud of thick gas manifesting around him. In a sense, he really did feel like a king, being able to stuff his face as messily and as loudly as he pleased without worrying about how he might’ve looked. 

No matter what he had a grip on, it found a way into his mouth; the eggs in the carton at the back of his fridge were popped into his mouth and promptly chewed them to bits. His newly-grown fangs cleaved through the thin shells and allowed the thick, gooey yolk to ooze onto his tongue. He nonchalantly pushed each and every egg into his mouth and chewed them to bits, washing them down with a rush of bottled water. Following this, he hastily wolfed down a head of lettuce which had been sitting in his fridge for as long as he could remember; the subtly rotten flavor wasn’t met with any ire or nausea, instead being munched on with as much casualty as Seth’s previous morsels - following this was a hot, hearty burp that had a certain rotten, acidic tinge to it, not that Seth paid much mind to it aside from a brief sniff or two. Not a moment passed where his furry cheeks weren’t bulging with chewed, slobbery food - and with every heavy swallow, his stomach swelled in size, inch by inch. With every passing minute, his fridge seemed to be growing emptier, in contrast to his gradually growing gut. And yet, despite his ravenous and frenzied feasting, his hunger was still yet to be sated; far from it, actually. 

His gut was absolutely massive at this point, resembling a huge, furry yoga ball that fell to his stubby knees and protruded a good several feet in front of him. Past the layers of thick, fatty flesh were a series of deep gurgles and churns, signifying his bodily functions were already hard at work digesting the vast amount of food packed away inside of it. While his abs were vaguely visible as protrusions sitting atop the rotund, heavy mass, they were mostly nullified by the fattier look his midsection had taken on. Even still, Seth continued to pour whatever he could get ahold of into his gullet; cups of yogurt, chilled fruits and vegetables, even whatever leftover food he had previously stored away and never bothered to finish. As a result of his messy eating, stray crumbs and stains littered his fur and beard and gave his once imposing form a slobbish, greasy sort of look; thick globs of saliva mixed with residue clung to the fur attached to his chubby cheeks, and moist scraps of food were strewn in-between the golden locks that made up his beard. 

His freezer wasn’t safe from his newfound monstrous appetite either - although it wasn’t quite as filled as the refrigerator, Seth helped himself to whatever was inside regardless; a half-emptied box of frozen waffles was the first to catch his attention, and waiting for them to thaw or going through the trouble of microwaving them didn’t exactly appeal to him, so he simply reached inside and hastily devoured them with no more than a few light chews. The same occurred to the opened box of mint and chocolate chip ice-cream that he had sampled a single spoonful of and never touched again. He shoved a clawed hand inside and scooped out a nice, heavy handful, before eagerly popping it into his open maw. After a split second of coating it in saliva, he gulped the entire mass down before it was able to melt completely. While the sensation of the cool mound slipping down his throat did feel nice, he didn’t permit himself to relish it for very long before shoving yet another handful into his mouth and repeating the process. The sheer size of his mouth and hands allowed for the box to be emptied fairly swiftly. Finishing off his monster of a binge was a single packaged popsicle, which he lazily unwrapped and, upon biting the body of the frozen treat off and sliding the stick out, swallowed whole. 

In under half an hour, both his refrigerator and freezer had been completely emptied, with the contents now brewing away inside of the monster’s gurgling gut. At this point, his hairy belly was monumental in size, and felt twice as heavy as it had previously been. The mass of flesh and fur spilled over his kneecaps, gently vibrating against his body as it gurgled and digested it’s heavy amount of contents. Promptly, Seth began to lumber his way towards the shoddy couch that rested against one of the walls of his living room, which, although fairly spacious, wasn’t extraordinarily large. Luckily, it was just big enough to allow him and his massively bloated gut through. His steps were slow and heavy; although both legs were thick, they were barely enough to support his gargantuan weight, which led to him being quite cautious on his way to the couch. 

He wasted no time in lowering his heavy rump onto the beaten cushions, which logically forced a loud creak out of it. The cushions buckled beneath his weight, as the rusted springs struggled to support the sheer mass that was thoughtlessly dropped onto them. Seth’s blubbery body spilled out in every direction and engulfed the entirety of the couch, smothering it in warm, fatty softness. Seth leaned back with a relaxed groan as he crossed his large, muscular arms behind his head. For a while, he sat there, relishing in the feeling of such hugeness that he never would’ve imagined boasting a mere day ago. He felt the food inside of him gurgle away, further adding to the layers of plush fat that encased his humongously wide body. Once more, the feeling of being a king swelled inside of him as he imagined himself sitting atop Asgore’s dignified throne.

Seth wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed. All he was aware of was the fact his meal didn’t take long to fully digest, giving his monstrous body a flabbier look to it, though it was especially prominent in the stomach area. His muscles were still present, but they were significantly neutralized by the sheer amount of lard that dominated his figure. Even the slightest bit of movement prompted his body to jiggle like gelatin; this was evidenced by his attempts to rise from the couch that resulted in the rolls of blubber hanging off his body wobbling without a hint of restrained, quivering hither and thither. The more forceful his attempts to get up were, the more his body jiggled, until eventually he found the strength inside of him to lurch forth. 

The unfortunate couch was left in a flattened state, likely to remain in that state for a while. After finding his balance, a good deal of air passed through his nostrils, and was quickly released through his mouth. The past hour or so was pleasant, as he was able to experience some time as Asgore as opposed to his typical boring self, and shamelessly stuff himself on top of that. However, the burning gold light seeping into the room came to remind him of the dwindling day; his own enjoyment seemed to nullify his awareness of the time that passed. As if on cue, a deep yawn roared past his throat, followed by a series of grumbling. A certain exhaustion swarmed him, allowing his once pleasure-occupied mind to drift towards the thought of resting his tired form. Of course, this roused a particular concern from the man-turned-beast; while he did want to rest atop the comfort of his small yet comfortable bed, he was certain that merely sitting on it at such a size would cause it to collapse, much like the now crushed couch before it. 

Not much thought was given to how he should get around this.

A wistful smile tugged at his mouth as he pressed both paws into the soft, furry fat that dominated his midsection, allowing it to ripple with his touch. “Well, we had fun, but I think it’s time to give it a rest.” 

He moved his hands past his shoulders, allowing his sharpened claws to firmly lock onto the plastic pauldrons that adorned his broad shoulders. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted the hunks of plastic off upwards - once they were neatly resting on each of his hands, he quickly rolled the dangling violet cape around both pauldrons into a near, burrito-like enclosure, before tossing it to the side. Luckily, as he kept his gaze focused on it, he was relieved to see it didn’t break upon impact. Briefly, he wriggled his muscled shoulders before allowing his body to loosen. He had to admit, he did feel particularly nice now that such a weight had been taken off his shoulders - quite literally in this case. 

“Ah, there we go… And now, we wait.”

And so, he waited.

And he waited. 

And he waited some more. 

Seth’s eyes restlessly examined the body below, on the lookout for any signs of a reverse. Maybe his fur would sink back into his flesh, or maybe his body would deflate as if it were a balloon pricked with a pin. However, as much as he stared with an almost blank look on his chubby face, that moment never came. His lips then promptly fell into a frown. 

“...shit.”  

* * *

  
  


“Henry, dear, did you take the turkey out of the oven yet?” A perky, feminine voice chimed from the other room, amidst the chatter of a multitude of houseguests.  

“I sure did, honey! I’m almost done seasoning it, give me a second…” A healthy-looking, bespectacled man replied with a smile as he sprinkled a fair amount of garlic powder over the roasting curve of the fowl. Upon setting the container on the counter, he took a hefty whiff of the roasted turkey’s aroma and hummed with delight. It was a job well done, something he rightfully could give himself a pat on the back for, and he had no doubt in his mind his latest culinary project would be enjoyed by many. He only needed to add a few finishing touches, and this year’s Thanksgiving feast would be 

Over the sound of pleasantries exchanged between guests, there was a solid knock at their house door- one heavy and forceful, like a mallet being pounded against the wooden surface. It was enough for Henry to jerk up in surprise, eyes widening and muscles tensing instinctively at the result of such banging. Could it be another guest? No, he was sure everyone was here, unless he got something wrong or his wife, Anne, invited some of their other friends behind his back. He was barely able to set his container of seasoning down before another knock - one arguably much more aggressive and booming then the previous - sounded out. 

“I’ll be there in a second!” Henry called out, before rushing out of the compact kitchen space. Moving with the slipperiness a weasel, he weaved his way through the people crowding the living room, trying to be mindful of the houseguests while taking care of the visitor as quickly as possible. Upon growing near enough to the door, his thin fingers wrapped around the doorknob and he swung it open without a second thought. 

Witnessing what was on the other side, a part of him wished he _ had _ hesitated. 

Henry was immediately met with the sight of a dense wall of fur and fat, boasting a width that almost surpassed the doorframe. He was face-to-face with a mass of furry lard, laced with wisps of thick golden hair. It resembled two oversized slabs of fresh dough stacked on top of one-another, completely covered in countless strands of snowy white. Above that was a broad and hairy chest, housing two magnificent - if a bit flabby - pecs beneath a jungle of messy gold. Just barely visible past the restricting door frame were a pair of muscular arms; although it was apparent they too had their share of blubber hanging off of them, it didn’t take away from the fact they looked just as powerful as the rest of him - the same could be said for his stumpy legs. The head, surrounded by a messy ring of golden hair, appeared to resemble a bovid’s, with grand horns and a stumpy snout… except it was far more cartoonish when compared to your average goat, as evidenced by the wide eyes and more prominent mouth. Every aspect of it looked real, from the fur to the flesh to the fat - surely this wasn’t the work of overzealous costuming. 

“Um…” Despite the impossible sight sprawled out before his very eyes, Henry could only utter a polite, if not quiet, “May I help you?” 

“Hey, Henry…” The bearded beast spoke, with a hint of awkwardness dripping from his deep yet gentle voice. “It’s me, Seth… though I wouldn’t blame you for not recognizing me. It’s a long story, but basically, I tried on this thing I ordered from the internet and it turned me into a character from the video game, Undertale… and I can’t go back to normal. I was hoping you could help me out.”

From behind his thick spectacles, Henry blinked slowly, as if still processing what exactly was happening before him. “Okay… Uh, why don’t you have a seat over there while I get things set up?”

He gestured to the lively living room. Sure enough, Seth had garnered the attention of everyone inside - each pair of eyes in the room were completely glued onto him, with some expressions painted with shock while others were filled with fear, but it was safe to say most sported a look that conveyed both. The dozens of people were completely still and silent before the impossible sight, and Henry couldn’t blame them. 

Henry felt a cold sweat tease the back of his neck. There was an undoubtedly heavy air of awkwardness pressing down on him. He could only watch by the sidelines as the hulking, bearded monster that was supposedly his friend clumsily force his girth through the doorframe - it was like watching someone force a cube through a triangular hole. The first time around, it was his abundant belly that refused to cooperate, as despite it’s malleability it couldn’t quite squeeze through the space provided. His gut jiggled hither and thither with every forceful shove, eventually spilling through all at once. However, even with that out of the way, the rest of his bulky body still remained. 

“Um…” A lithe woman stepped up, sporting bobbed chestnut hair and a pair of rounded glasses sitting atop her small nose. “Henry… Who might this... person... be?” 

“He says he’s Seth,” Henry replied. “Y’know, from college.” 

“Seth?  _ That _ Seth?” She briefly turned her quizzical gaze towards the mass of furry fat. “Funny, I always remembered him being much skinnier… and not as hairy… and now that I think about it, I don’t think he had  _ horns _ the last time we saw him.” 

Henry sighed and brought a hand to his face. “I know this all sounds like some bad fever dream, Marie, but he said he’s looking for us to help him out and return to normal. We can’t just leave him out there.”

“But what about the party, dear?” There was an obvious concern in her voice. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean any harm, but I wouldn’t want to scare off any of the guests. After all, we’ve been planning this for weeks, haven’t we? And for all of it to be ruined, just like that…” 

Seth’s horns repeatedly bashed against the top of the frame in the form of several noisy thunks, with each of his lumbered steps sending the wooden floorboards into a quaking fit. His stumpy, furry legs couldn’t quite squeeze through the frame either, and his heavily-padded arms were certainly no different. Despite each attempt to squeeze the remainder of his well-built body through, something always happened to get caught on the door frame - his grunts of strain were quickly melting into grunts of frustration. 

Every set of eyes in the room were focused on the jiggling mass that oozed through the doorframe, though they were quick to move to a series of cracks that spidered along the surface of the surrounding walls. With each push issued by the behemoth of a monster, the web of thick crevices spread further to each side of the wall - it eventually grew to the point where chunks of debris and wood were carelessly knocked off and tumbled down Seth’s flabby frame like rocks avalanching down the length of a mountain. 

It was only a matter of time before the frame tore away from the wall without a hint of grace at the might of Seth’s body, sounding out with a mighty crash. The furnished door had been mercilessly knocked off of it’s hinges and now lay uselessly on the ground, and there was now a vaguely Seth-shaped hole embedded in the wall - because of this, there was a cold chill that freely leaked into the room, with the remainder of the neighborhood cloaked in darkness now completely exposed to the guests, and vice versa. The monster clumsily stumbled forth like a zombie having risen from the grave, his weight inducing a string of tremors that shook the room. Amidst the chaos, each of the guests attempted to support themselves against a nearby wall in fear of losing their balance - Henry and Marie could only helplessly cling to one another until the tremors quieted down, as it luckily only lasted a few brief moments. 

That, of course, wasn’t counting the impossibly bent wooden door frame that awkwardly enclosed around the base of his doughy gut. Upon taking note of it, Seth’s paws clamped around each side and promptly tore it into two with all the casualty of snapping a toothpick. The broken jambs noisily clattered to the ground, with a rainstorm of wood chippings following suit not a moment after. As a result of being released from the frame’s grip, his stomach was quick to bounce back to it’s original, doughy shape.

“Hey, uh,” Seth began, peering over his broad shoulders to peer at the mess he had caused. “Sorry about the door and stuff. I’ll pay you back later, maybe.” 

Henry could only stare in horror and shock as the complete mess his door had been reduced to, a pile of stray debris and scraps of wood sitting atop a series of monstrous indentations embedded in the floor. It was absolutely horrible to look at. The entire situation, now that it had begun to sink in, was horrible - like something ripped straight out of a nightmarish fever dream. His old college friend’s monstrous body towered over him and his wife, forcing the man to stare upwards in order to get a glimpse of the bovine beast’s eyes; surely, Seth couldn’t have actually transformed into such a monster, right? It was physically impossible, unless science had evolved exponentially since the last time he checked. 

Yet, as much as he wanted to lash out at his friend, ushering him out of the house without a moment’s worth of hesitation, there was no telling what someone of Seth’s muscular prowess could do in retaliation. Henry certainly didn’t want to find out. 

“Ah, Seth… Why not take a seat over there?” Henry jerked his chin towards the dining hall, where it appeared quite a few people had taken refuge - each of them gazed at the muscular monster with evident fear in their eyes. “We were, um, just about to dig into a nice Thanksgiving feast, and -”

Seth’s wide eyes brightened like lightbulbs, and as if on cue, the depths of his gut bellowed a deep, guttural roar. “Oh shit, you guys have food? I’m starving, so I hope you don’t mind if I grab a bite.” 

“Y-Yeah. And after we’ve all had a nice meal, we can start working out how to turn you back to normal.” Yet, by the time Henry had finished speaking, Seth had already begun eagerly hobbling down the hallway. 

Moving as fast as his stumpy legs could take him, he moved towards the aforementioned room in a sort of hustle. His furry rolls of flab jostled and wobbled about with his awkward movements, just barely able to fit through the tight grip of the enclosing walls. Given his abundant frame, Seth easily took up the majority of the space given, nearly blocking it entirely with his body. As such, Henry was unable to see much aside from the wall of pure lard and muscle. Upon pushing past the maw of the hallway, there was a brief pause to the monster’s movements - no doubt taking in what was spread atop the table - before a nearby seat was subjected to the weight of his pudgy rump. 

The chairs littering the dining hall were bulky and wide - the fact they were apparently enough to support someone of Seth’s girth made Henry particularly glad his wife had persuaded him to opt for practicality over style. Slowly, carefully, the man advanced towards the dining room. 

It was there he could get a good look at the massive feast sprawled out on the surface of the table; steaming mashed potatoes, warm stuffing, and a cup of hot gravy, to name a few. There also happened to be platters of assorted steamed vegetables, such as asparagus, baked carrots, and onions, and near to the edges was his dear Marie’s signature fish casserole. There was even a platter of dripping hamburgers amidst the smaller portions. Of course, no meal would be complete without beverages, which came in the form of a bottle filled to the brim with fizzy soda. It was absurdly huge, enough to feed an entire family. Yet, at the very center, was a glaring patch of open space - no doubt where the centerpiece belonged. 

A smile tugged at Seth’s plump, bearded face as he turned his attention towards his friend. “Hey, great spread so far, man. Can’t wait to dig in!”

Yet again, an ominous gurgle slipped past the layers upon layers of padding his stomach boasted, one that seemed to be sharper and noisier than the previous. It was enough to send a small shiver down Henry’s spine. The surrounding guests certainly looked uncomfortable at best, and terrified at worst - near the edge of one of the walls was a young woman, stout and blonde, that looked to be mere moments away from passing out as evidenced by her ghastly white skin. 

“Say, when’s the turkey coming out?” The blonde and bearded bovine soon asked, his deep voice sincere yet puzzled. 

“Oh, um, r-right away! Thanks for being so, ah, patient… you guys.” The words rushed past Henry’s lips with little thought, and before he knew it, he found himself rushing back through the hallway in a sort of light jog. 

He could barely catch a glimpse of his wife’s bewildered and concerned expression before the sight of his kitchen interior greeted him once more. It was here he was alone, for the time being; truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure why he had become so anxious in the presence of Seth. Although, now that he thought about it, he  _ was _ dealing with a massively fat, massively muscular bovine beast that sported sharp claws and jaws lined with vicious fangs. Old friend from college or not, Seth had physically turned into nothing short of a monster, and there was no doubt in Henry’s mind that he’d have no difficulty tearing him apart if he so chose. Sure, the Seth he knew back in his scholar years was a quiet, awkward misanthrope - the last person he’d expect to attack anyone - but Henry couldn’t be sure  _ all  _ of the supposed changes were physical. 

Whatever happened, they had to get him back to normal. He recalled Seth mentioning something called an ‘under-tail’, so perhaps researching such a thing would prove to be a good starting point. 

The man shook his head, clearing his mind of any stray thoughts, and was quick to turn the brunt of his attention towards the main task at hand; keeping Seth fed and happy. The pale blue eyes behind his glasses briefly scanned the room, before settling his gaze at the steaming turkey that idly laid atop the marble counter; thankfully, it was still piping hot, as evidenced by the thin wisps of steam still radiating off of the roasted meat. His fingers briefly flexed, before he took hold of the iron handles - he made sure his grip was firm and steady, not wanting to risk ruining the party’s main attraction.

Upon returning to the dining room, he came to find everyone he had invited was now packed inside of the room, seated around the table in a sort of circle. It was plain to see each of them had different looks on their faces, yet they were all evidently in some state of discomfort. Even Marie, who sat at the very head of the table, didn’t look particularly thrilled about her situation - though, that wasn’t to say Henry could blame her. Slowly, he licked his dry lips and promptly swallowed to quell his withered throat, before proceeding to gently ease the turkey platter down onto the given space. Thankfully, it fit with little difficulty, finally giving the surface of the table a crowded and full look. 

Marie clasped her dainty hands together and allowed her thin lips to curl into a smile - Henry had to admire her, attempting to stay confident and positive in a really, really weird situation, “Wow, we’ve really outdone ourselves this year, dear!” She exclaimed. “Look at all of this delicious food… I hope you all enjoy eating as much as we enjoyed preparing it.” 

“It looks great, you guys,” a person piped up - a toned, handsome brunet that looked only slightly younger then Henry. “I can’t wait to, ah, dig in…”

The rest promptly murmured in agreement - Seth included. Henry couldn’t help but shiver as he watched monster’s large tongue worm past the jaws he sported, slowly gliding along the crevices of his lips and leaving behind a trail of drool that clung to his fur and ominously glinted in the light. 

“Now, I think we’ve all been waiting long enough… why don’t we begin?” 

Immediately, like a starved predator in the wild, Seth struck. His muscled, flabby arm tore outwards and he snatched up one of the huge, meaty burgers offered, nearly squishing it completely in-between his clawed fingers. His jaws brutally tore into it, spraying various condiments all over his golden beard and pristine fur. With only a single bite, Seth had managed to completely sever the massive sandwich in half - something that would’ve easily taken the average human at least five bites or so. Wasting no time, the rows of sharp teeth that lines his jaws got to work grinding the thick patty to paste; his lips noisily smacked together with every chew, splattering drool mixed with assorted juices and condiments all over his chest. He didn’t bother swallowing down his current portion before hastily cramming the rest of the hamburger into his awaiting maw. 

A few more messy chews later, Seth issued a swallow. There was an apparent bulge that slowly slipped down the length of his thick throat, only becoming visible once it surpassed his beard - upon reaching his massively broad chest, however, it disappeared from sight completely, and the monster promptly released a small exhale of relief. 

As he reached for yet another burger, Henry could only slowly, methodically blink. The sight had been absolutely repulsive - the Seth he knew wasn’t exactly a paragon of table manners, but he at least had the decency to chew with his mouth closed. That wasn’t counting the facial hair and fur strewn with globs of ketchup and mustard, having been messily tangled in a way that was both disgusting and uncomfortable to look at. Glancing around, Henry came to see his guests shared the same sentiments; all eyes were on Seth as he sloppily devoured his way through yet another burger, with no one else having even touched the spread. The expressions on display ranged from discomfort to revulsion - one red-haired young woman had both hands clamped around her face, as if she were to throw up at any given moment. 

Oblivious to those around him, Seth made quick work of the meaty meal provided, with specks of tomato and cheese now joining the mess that made it’s home in his facial hair. His furry cheeks bulged with food, and his soft face contorted into several expressions that all bled with satisfaction, before he tilted his head and forced down yet another substantial swallow. The burgers on the plate were disappearing at a brisk pace, nothing short of a testament to Seth’s gluttony, and despite the large sizes they boasted, the bovid monster had no difficulty tearing into them. With every beefy hamburger ushered past his lips, the mess that stained his face only continued to grow denser, and the mass of hairy flab that jutted forth from his toned torso seemed to subtly expand with each burger. 

Soon enough, all that remained was near-empty platter, topped with nothing but stray crumbs. A clawed paw contentedly rested atop the curve of his heaving gut, with his lips curled into a small smile. A thick, raunchy, “ _ auuuurp! _ ” tore past his lips - Henry could swear he could see the individual globs of spittle glinting in the light as they flung out of his maw. Of course, such an explosive outburst elicited a sharp wince from the man, as did quite a few of the people surrounding the beast. A particularly sour stench soon danced along his nostrils - undoubtedly beefy, with hints of cheese and vegetables, but potent nonetheless. The scent was bad enough, but the fact Seth lacked the decency to stifle such a gaseous release or even excuse himself afterward… Understandably, he came to find the crowd of guests seemed to be getting more anxious and on-edge by the second, with the visitors that were unfortunate enough to be near Seth having scooted from his massive form without a hint of subtly - it appeared everyone present had lost their appetite, and Henry had to admit, he didn’t blame them in the slightest. 

Once more, Seth leaned in and outstretched an arm, before taking hold of a nearby bottle of soda - grape, judging by the gaudy purple coloring. With a brief flick of a claw, the cap was popped off, and it was promptly dunked over the bovine’s head. A string of heavy lumps spilled down the length of his throat, each eager gulp gradually depleting the bubbling liquid that filled the plastic container. It was only a matter of time before the entire thing had been emptied to the very last drop, with the liters now sloshing about within his burbling gut. The moment the tip left his lips, a bubbly “ _ buuuaaarp! _ ” slipped forth, further spreading the unholy stench of his guts into the air. This belch, while just as noisy as the previous, wasn’t quite as sour so much as it was airy, but still carried an unpleasant smell regardless. 

Yet again, barely any concern was given to such a shameless outburst. Instead, the flabby beast opted to begin picking away at the bowl filled to the brim with baked carrots 

“Um, excuse me…” Sitting next to Seth’s hugely fat form was a smaller woman, sporting dyed pink hair under a gray beanie, and a pastel purple hoodie that was evidently too loose for someone of her more lithe frame. Her words had an obvious meekness to them, her movements antsy and nervous as she poked at one of Seth’s muscled biceps. “I, umm, know you’re probably really hungry, but, uh, you’re being kinda loud and sloppy… sorry about that.” 

Curiously, he craned his neck towards her.

“Hm? What is -  **_uuuuuooooooooooorp_ ** !” Before the monster could finish speaking, a guttural burp lurched forth and crashed against the unfortunate woman’s face point-blank. Henry watched as the woman’s porcelain face contorted and morphed; at first, her eyes were wide open, and her lips parted slightly in a sort of gape. That melted into a look of almost thoughtfulness, and then dizziness. The young man couldn’t imagine being in her shoes - Seth’s gas was repulsive enough at a distance, but to be so up close and personal with such a horrendous fetor. Of course, it only took a few moments for the gas cloud to reach Henry’s location; it was quite possibly the single most rotten thing Seth ever had the displeasure of whiffing. The various meats, cheeses, and veggies stewing away inside of Seth’s mountainous belly were all vaguely recognizable in their now gaseous form, but more or less blended together in a sort of fetid smorgasbord. 

Polite or not, Henry couldn’t help but ride the collar of his shirt up to his nostrils in self defense, quickly taking note quite a few of the guests had opted for such a solution as well. He was certain he could hear some people utter a few disgusted groans here and there. 

It all culminated to the point where the aforementioned woman’s baby blue eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her body became limp as it ceremoniously crashed against the surface of the table. Everyone waited for a moment, and then another, yet she refused to give even the slightest bit of movement; sure enough, Seth’s smelly burps were so bad, they had knocked someone out cold. 

“Oh dear…” Seth’s voice carried a gentle, quaint air to it, which struck Henry as odd. “You have my sincerest apologies, young one… I didn’t intend to subject you to such a rude expulsion, as it only slipped out.” 

Luckily, Marie was quick to rush to the pink-headed girl’s aid - a pulse check proved she was unconscious, but still among the living, so his wife opted to gently ease her out of her seat. She easily slipped an arm under her legs, and with only a small heave, was able to hoist her limp body upwards - considering her shorter, lithe figure, she didn’t exactly weigh much, so Marie was able to escort the girl out of there in no time. With the concerns of his friend’s safety now quelled, Henry’s mind mused over what Seth had said - he never used sophisticated language in casual conversation, reserving such articulation for college papers and resumes, so the words previously spoken were something the man found a little weird. 

“Hey, Seth?” Henry began. “You… feeling alright? You don’t, ah, usually use words like that - no offense or anything.”

Seth perked up. There was a strange look in his wide blue eyes, one unfamiliar to the married man until that moment - it was kind, gentle, and mature, reminding him somewhat of a calm ocean. Yet after a series of rapid blinks from the horned bovid, the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared, instead replaced by the dark look the Seth he knew was known for. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m cool,” Seth casually replied, continuing to shovel carrots into his maw. He didn’t bother swallowing his food before continuing. “ _ Mmph… Jushst feeling a bit, mmm, weird, that’sh all… _ ” 

Without a hint of restraint, the fat, beefy monster pushed the bowl to his mouth and wasted no time in beginning to noisily devour everything that was unfortunate enough to come close to the gaping, stench-infested abyss that was his mouth. By the time he had set the now completely empty bowl down, there were chunks of orange littering his matted, greasy fur and tangled beard, giving it an even slobbier look. At this point, his flabby, fur-and-hair-ridden belly had begun to emit various noises, as if to notify everyone in the room that the digestion process had finally kicked in. Noisy, ambient gurgles and groans oozed past the endless layers of thick fat, bleeding out into the open air. 

The asparagus were Seth’s next unfortunate victims, being neatly displayed side-by-side on a thin platter. Due to the size of his hand, he was able to snatch up most of the green sticks with ease, tearing into them without any sliver of mercy. His teeth noisily crunched them to bits and pieces, spraying saliva-strewn chunks of green this way and that - a loud, crude  _ ‘buuuaaarp!’ _ was certainly enough to knock quite a few pieces out of his mouth and onto his heaving chest, where they clung to his broad and furry, yet still very much stained, pecs. Whatever remained in his mouth, however, was swiftly gulped down. The remaining sticks of asparagus didn’t pose any semblance of a threat to the monster, being eaten up easily. The onions that followed certainly weren’t any different, as his mighty jaws noisily chewed them to an unrecognizable slurry the moment the rounded veggies made contact with his maw. There weren’t very many, so Seth was finished in no time flat… the brisk pace of his binging was no doubt helped by his huge size and seemingly bottomless appetite. 

With each of the vegetables now stewing away inside of his stomach, the growth the mass of fat had underwent was now becoming quite apparent - the rounded, doughy mountain of fur and fat he called a gut was now beginning to jut into the table, steadily rising and falling with every lumbering breath issued by the monster. He was already massive beforehand, so Henry could only imagine how much heavier he’d get with all of that food stewing away inside of him. 

_ “Brrrrrrrrppppppt!” _ A juicy fart tore past his cheeks, further contributing to the stale, stinky air the room now had. The release was uncomfortably wet and sloppy; it sounded like were the slightest bit of extra pressure applied, the back of Seth’s pants would’ve been graced with something a bit more solid. This time around, the humid fumes carried a stench that smelled thickly of the previously consumed vegetables - onions and asparagus being the notable offenders, with hints of digested cheese and lettuce. 

“Oh my.” There it was again, the kinder sort of attitude his words had previously. Sure enough, the look behind his eyes had changed as well, once again becoming light and mature. “Golly, how unpleasant… I suppose my bowels aren’t quite agreeing with me today.”

“Seth?” Henry began, arching a thin brow. “Are you feeling, uh, weird… again?”

There was a look of genuine curiosity that appeared on Seth’s fat, bewhiskered face. “Seth…? My sincerest apologies, but you must have the wrong gentlemen; my name is Asgore.”

“I… what? Seth, are you, um… are you joking around?”

The ghost of a confused frown tugged at the goat-like beast’s face. “I… apologize, but I’m rather confused. I don’t recall becoming acquainted with anyone named Seth, although I’m sure he’s a fine young man. If introductions are needed once more… I am Asgore Dreemurr, as you may know me as King of all Monsterkind. And I must say, your home cooking is marvelous - I ought to hire you as the royal chef one day!” 

“Oh…” 

From behind his glasses, Henry blinked. Did someone lace the food with some kind of drug while he was out? Illegal substances or not, this was all getting really, really weird - although, now that he thought about it, the fact that he had supposedly turned into a massive, goat-like monster out of nowhere was probably some kind of warning sign for things to come. Regardless, whatever state Seth’s mind was in right now, Henry was sure it wasn’t normal in the slightest. For now, he’d have to deal with ‘Asgore’. 

After a short, brassy  _ “brrrpht!” _ slipped past his anus and further tainted the open air, Seth… or, more accurately, Asgore, took hold of the sides of the fish casserole’s pan. He hoisted it upwards and allowed his warm gaze to glaze along the meal, as if sizing it up. “Mmm, casserole. My dearest Toriel used to make this all the time… albeit, with snails instead of fish, heh heh.

Betraying his sophisticated and polite manner of speaking, Asgore hastily shoved the casserole into his snout and began to slobbishly stuff his face with everything the pan had to offer. The way he messily ate without concern of how others viewed him, allowing chunks and specks of food to fly hither and thither with every eager slurp, very much reminded Seth of a pig. His jaws dutifully scooped up everything inside, making sure to leave not an inch of the pan remaining. Henry could swear he could see Asgore’s thick tongue lather along the metallic container, no doubt determined in his quest to completely gobble up everything inside. Yet again, Asgore’s gluttony didn’t disappoint, as the casserole his wife had spent hours lovingly making had been cleared out without a hint of grace. 

Upon prying his pudgy face away from the pan, a particularly disgusting sight revealed itself. Globs of yellow and beige stuck to his face like thick mud, smeared all around his snout. His facial hair and fur were absolutely strewn with paste, matting together into a series of lumps, and speckled throughout the mess were specks of broccoli and bread crumbs, like stars in a disgustingly yellow sky. 

“ _ Uuuuuuurrrrp! _ Whoops, excuse me…” 

Asgore’s bright eyes briefly scanned the table, before eventually settling on the pot of fresh stuffing. Yet, before he could feast once more, his meaty ass erupted into a sloppy ‘ _ phhrrrrrrrrbbt!’,  _ yet again spraying the ungodly stench of his guts out into the air. All at once, the repulsive gas flooded forth, immediately clouding up the beast’s general area - sure enough, the moist, steaming fumes had gotten worse, considering they were carrying the miasma of his sweaty, unwashed ass mixed with the odor of his stewing innards. 

To Asgore’s right was a taller, leaner man, boasting a particularly low-quality attire and a head of long, black hair. It was a miracle how he was able to endure so much of the supposed monster king’s stink with only a few groans of protest, but it was only a matter of time before he had reached his limit. Upon getting the slightest bit of a whiff of Asgore’s latest release, all consciousness seemed to slip away from him instantly, leading to his body toppling over to the side and collapsing against the floor with a solid thud. 

“Ah, golly!” Asgore immediately exclaimed, unkempt face strewn with worry. “I’m so very sorry about that, sir… I’ll try to be more careful. Why, I don’t -  _ aaaaarrp!  _ \- know what’s gotten into me today…” 

“Alright, that’s it.” All of a sudden, the toned brunet rose from his seat. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t happy. “I can’t stand being in the same room as that disgusting, fat  _ thing _ anymore. Henry, Marie, everyone… I hope you take care, so long as you don’t invite that  _ oversized cow _ again.” 

For a brief moment, everyone’s collective gazes were focused on the young man as he began to shuffle his way towards the end of the room - Asgore, on the other hand, was too occupied with the dish of stuffing as he messily buried his snout into the bowl and slurped up whatever he could. The man moved hurriedly, steering around the edge of the table and advancing forward without a moment’s worth of hesitation. It was only a matter of time before he began to stride behind Asgore’s seat - separating the heaving monster from the wall. For a moment, it appeared as if the brunet was home free. 

“ _ Bllaaaaaaarrrrppppppt! _ ” 

Or, maybe not.

The force of such a release was nothing short of explosive; to the point where the sheer force knocked the unfortunate man backwards and forced him to crash against the wall, as if stuck by a car. Once the rush of smelly winds had died down, the brunet slowly slipped downwards, before joining the aforementioned black-haired man on the ground in collective unconsciousness. Asgore eased his head out of the bowl of stuffing, with bread chunks now lodged in his fat, fuzzy face. 

“Oh dear… another one? You have my -  _ uuurp!  _ \- dearest apologies, young one…” He murmured, his kind and civilized words contrary to the complete and utter mess that was smeared all over his face and paws. 

A fog of thick, repulsive miasma swirled around the room, no doubt a result of Asgore’s frequent gassy releases. The air was nothing short of toxic, with not an inch of the room not tainted by the extremely sour smell. Amidst the fumes were hints of the various foods previously consumed - onions, fish, beef, cheese, lettuce, among other things - but each of them were only vaguely recognizable as they blended together in a sort of rotten smorgasboard, mixed with the sweltering stench of pure ass. Asgore didn’t seem to mind, however - he was far too busy stuffing his face with the remainder of the stuffing to pay any mind to his gas. Upon setting the empty bowl down, he lazily dragged his tongue along his lips, gathering any stray muck that clung to his moustache. 

The cup of gravy that sat atop the table was snatched up without hesitation, before dunked over Asgore’s parted jaws. The hot liquid moved slowly as it spilled downwards; as expected, not all of it was caught in his gaping mouth. Quite a bit of it oozed onto other spots of his face, joining the layers of grime and filth that coated his once pristine-furred face. The bovid forced down a series of slow, deliberate gulps, each one emptying the large cup a bit at a time. Although there was enough gravy inside to fill a two liter bottle, it posed very little difficulty to the gluttonous monster king, as did the many, many meals before it. It was only a matter of time before all of the contents had been packed inside of his ever-growing gut, with the only traces of it’s existence being the numerous splotches of brown that now littered his fur and hair. 

“ _ Bruuuuaaaaaaarp! _ ” Specks of gravy splattered this way and that, with most landing atop the curve of his monumental midriff. “Oh my… your cooking is absolutely - _ hic! _ \- ...heavenly, sir. I simply can’t get enough!”

To emphasize, he brought his filthy paw down upon his stomach, delivering a few solid pats of contentment. The doughy globe of fur had swelled even further outwards, now comfortably resting atop the table. It continued to idly gurgle and churn as it worked to digest the overwhelming slurry of contents. As a testament to his increased weight, the chair beneath him began to steadily creak in protest. Henry supposed that even such bulky furniture had a breaking point, and he had a sneaking suspicion he’d see the unfortunate thing break sooner then he’d hope. 

After pushing out a short-lived, yet nevertheless hearty  _ “fbrrrt!”,  _ the slobby beast turned his attention towards the large crock filled to the brim with mashed potatoes - mashed to a near-perfect paste, with not a single stray glob or chunk in sight, topped with hot butter and fresh spices. It was like a mountain of white tinted the slightest bit yellow, something that no doubt wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of one of those hoity-toity cuisine magazines, yet even something as perfectly crafted as that wasn’t excluded from Asgore’s greedy, gluttonous rampage. The bovid’s large, muscled hands reached forward and tore into the buttery mound without any signs of restraint. 

Asgore shoved the thick globs of yellowish white into his rounded muzzle in a fit of voracious splendor. His jaws eased around the buttery mush, slurping it up like a feral animal with it’s prey. With each time his hand dove into the bowl, butter and mashed potatoes clung to his sticky, grimy fur, further adding to the mess that blemished his strong forearms, with butter dripping through his clawed fingers with each time he dove inside and scooped up a lump of the mashed mush. Piggish snorts and slurps escaped him amidst honeyed hums of pleasure, with his words becoming more muffled with each helping of potatoes that was shovelled into his mouth. Eventually, he found himself gripping the rim of the bowl, pushing it to his snout and noisily lapping up whatever still clung to the glass. 

_ “Mmph… mmnng… so good…” _ Asgore could be heard through his cheeks stuffed with mashed potatoes, his low words strewn in-between his sloppy chewing and smacking.  _ “I simply must have more…”  _

His belly’s growing weight forced an ominous creak out of the table, having been packed to the near brim with assorted foodstuff. It had swelled to the size of a large bean bag chair - if not a little bigger - having gained a more rounded, solid shape as opposed to the doughy mass of lard he had sported prior. It continued to ambiently churn, like a brewing cauldron of some sort, undoubtedly working to turn it’s contents into even more stinky gas for the monster to expel at his leisure. 

As soon as he pulled the glassy container away from his face - the bowl having been licked completely clean, being completely empty and spotless despite the fact it had been completely filled only a few moments ago - a thunderous “ _ buuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaarp!’  _ ripped out of his throat, erupting globs of saliva every which way and that amidst other chunks of food that had previously gotten themselves stuck inside of his mouth. The wet gobs rained down upon his broad, fat chest and towering gut, lodging themselves in-between the strands of white fur that spotted his massive dad bod. This, as expected, even worsened the stinging, smelly stench that infested the dining room; upon glancing around once more, Henry was surprised to see quite a few other people had been knocked out as well, with some having slumped over onto the table while others were scattered about on the wooden floor. 

There had been around twelve people beforehand, but now he could only count five or so heads still upright. Henry had to admit, he too was feeling a bit disoriented by the constant string of gaseous released issued by the monstrous goat man, yet he stood his ground regardless. The sight had been disgusting and horrible, yet like a particularly gruesome murder scene, the man couldn’t quite pry his eyes away. He had to see it through to the end. 

Yet, the centerpiece of the feast still remained - the only meal remaining, having not been crammed into the sweltering confines of Asgore’s gut… yet. Henry could see the streaks of thick, sloppy drool cascade down his chin, seeping into his mucky beard and splattering against his abundant pecs. There was a different look in his deep blue eyes this time around, glittering with a primal, ravenous lust.  The turkey was quite huge, being a size that Henry was sure would last the average person about a week or so, yet there was no doubt in his mind it’d be yet another measly snack for Asgore. Like a predator with it’s prey, Asgore surged forth, before burying his monstrous claws into the cooked meal. He ripped chunks of the warm meat out of the crisp poultry, shoving everything and anything into his drooling maw. 

Asgore barely chewed the chunks sitting atop his tongue before thickly gulping them down. He savagely shredded into it, with the noisy sounds of his chews, smacks, and gulps reigning high over the quiet air. The rate at which he tore quickened - there was not a moment that passed where the bovine’s mouth wasn’t filled with chewed, saliva-infused meat. And yet, even after a handful of greedy cleaves by Asgore, the grant majority of the roasted fowl still remained. It seemed the monster king had realized this as well, as he soon opted for a different approach. His strong hands were planted onto each side of the fowl, and it was promptly lifted out of the platter and brought to his fat, filthy face. 

As if it were a burger, Asgore parted his strong jaws and subsequently sunk his teeth into the turkey’s rounded rump, before jerking his head back, thus tearing off a substantial chunk off of it’s body. There wasn’t a hint of restraint in the goat-like beast’s movements as he devoured it in barbaric fashion. Specks of saliva and meat flew everywhere, becoming scattered all along his furry form, with some happening to rain down onto the wooden floor below. It was a perfect display of sheer gluttony, with his mouth constantly stuffed with some kind of meat, and his cacophonous chomps and smacks being louder than ever. 

_ “Blrraaaaaart!” _

_ “Uuuuaaaaarrrrrp!”  _

_ “Pbbbblllllllllt!”  _

_ “Buuuoooooorp!”  _

It was almost as if Asgore’s mouth and anus were competing for the loudest, sloppiest release. Each explosion was louder then the previous, as was the stench, to the point where it reached ungodly levels. The force of such gas was nothing short of vigorous, as evidenced by the fact it was enough to make the dishes on the table rattle and quake. Henry watched as the remaining guests hastily rose from their seats, simultaneously cautious and hasty - it appeared they all had the same idea. Asgore’s humongous, hairy gut was swelling in size at a rapid pace, forcing even more strained creaks and groans out of the table below. Yet despite the fact the table was to succumb to such a pressure at just about any moment, Asgore only continued to stuff his face with the turkey, still working away at the massive meal. Only briefly did he pull away from the turkey, and for a few moments he was quiet, until… 

**_“AUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP!”_ **

The floorboards and surrounding walls quaked at the might of such a guttural release, as it struck by a particularly vicious earthquake. For the solid thirty seconds it went on for, the absolutely abhorrent stench of the digested foodstuff resting inside of his guts flooded into the room all at once; words simply couldn’t describe how inhumanly rotten it was, only being comparable to a decaying landfill drenched in sewer waste left to bask in the humid summer sun. Fish, cheese, broccoli, beef, lettuce, asparagus, onions… they were all present, having been blended together as a acidic, rancid miasma. Henry wouldn’t wish such a stench on his worst enemy - it was, without a doubt, the single most vomit-inducing thing he ever had the misfortune of whiffing, to the point where he was certain he was to faint on the very spot. 

That was, until the remaining guests rushed out of their seats and made a straight, collective beeline towards the exit. One of them was, fortunately, courteous enough to grab Henry by the forearm and drag him out before he could join the victims of Asgore’s smelly gas. As a group, they hurriedly hobbled out, not stopping until they were safely inside of the main room, where they were a great distance from the feasting monster king. The stench of his gas was still ever-present in the air, but it was far more tolerable when compared to before. And Asgore himself was still visible through the hallway, having messily gulped down whatever remained of the turkey. His stomach was absolutely enormous at this point, sitting on top of the table like a king with it’s throne. Henry would be surprised if Asgore could still move after such a feast. 

_ “Craaaack!”  _

Sure enough, the table snapped and collapsed all at once. The emptied dishes scattered everywhere, some smashing into pieces immediately upon impact while others were lucky enough to get not much more than a series of cracks. Not only that, but the seat tasked with the unfortunate job of supporting the fat, filthy monster’s weight had finally given up, now not much more than a series of metal scraps and blocks that lay idly on the floorboards. This, of course, dropped Asgore down onto the ground. Everyone braced for impact, but were still caught off guard by the sheer force of his weight coming down upon the floor, allowing everything to quake and convulse wildly. 

“Um,” Asgore sheepishly looked to the side and mustered up an awkward, almost dorky smile. “I don’t suppose you’ll allow me to use your restroom. I may need to powder my nose.” 


End file.
